Ballpoint pens and notebook paper
by Annamia
Summary: The trouble with quills was that they refused to do what you told them."


_Author's note: it's been way, way too long since we just posted a oneshot. -sigh- we hope it's worth it. this one was inspired by redbull07 and her stories about very simple objects. hopefully this one makes the grade.  
Disclaimer: we're patching up all the holes jk rowling left in her stories, so we can't possibly be her!  
--kyra_

* * *

The trouble with quills, Alice thought through clenched teeth, was that they refused to do what you told them. They were supposed to write, but they stubbornly wouldn't do it. At least, not for her. She could _not_ get the stupid things to work. No one else seemed to have as much trouble with them. Not even the other muggle-borns had issues. It was like the atmosphere of Hogwarts had worked some magic on them to make them able to use the things. So why had it missed her? Why was she the only one as yet ungifted with the power to use the feather pens? Maybe she shouldn't be here after all.

She growled as the tip of the thing dug through the parchment, leaving _another_ hole. That was another thing. Parchment. Why parchment? What was wrong with loose leaf? Loose leaf had _lines_, at least. Alice had never been good at writing on the lines even when they were there, and now that they were missing… well, the words 'ant track' sprang to mind when one looked at her wandering words. 'Ant tracks and chicken scratches,' she thought bitterly. 'There _has_ to be a better way to do this.'

Unfortunately, she didn't know any spells to get the stupid quill to write for itself, nor was she good enough to enchant lines onto the parchment. She thought with longing about her nice ballpoints at home, the white ones with 'BiC round stick med/moy UK' emblazoned on the side. _They_ wrote marvelously. Even someone like _her_ could get them to write properly, and they didn't require constant re-inking. If only she had brought some with her…

Suddenly, she raised her head. Wait. Wait, she _had_ brought some! Well, one at least. She stood, putting her blank, hole-studded parchment to the side, and darted over to the stair case leading up to her dormitory. Lilly Potter, one of her roommates, called out to her, but Alice ignored her. She dashed up the stairs and arrived, panting slightly, before her trunk. She flung it open and rummaged through the mess of things. It was at the bottom, she remembered, along with… along with a spiral notebook! Her mother had given her the notebook and the pen so that Alice could keep a diary. Well, fat chance of _that_. Not when she could put them to much better use. Her mother approved of schoolwork; she wouldn't be mad if Alice used her gifts to write essays, right?

She carried the things back down to the common room, only to find Hugo Weasley in her seat. She scowled. "Get off."

He shook his head. "Nope! You moved."

Alice propped her hands on her hips. "_Move_, Weasley."

"No."

She sighed and pulled out her wand. He eyed it in amusement. "What can you do that I can't?"

She grimaced. The answer was nothing, but she had no intention of saying that. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Across the room, Lilly called, "Get up, Hugo. She's trying to do her homework."

Hugo stuck a tongue out at his cousin. "That's not _my_ problem, is it?"

Lilly drew her own wand, and now Hugo looked slightly nervous. Lilly, unlike Alice, was good at the whole magic thing. _She_ could write with quills no problem!

"Move," Lilly ordered. He moved.

Alice smiled at her friend. "Thanks."

Lilly grinned back, putting her wand away. "You're welcome. You need help with your homework?"

Alice shook her head. "Nope. Thanks, though."

Lilly nodded and turned back to her conversation with Rose, Hugo's older sister. Alice opened her spiral, taking in the sight of the white, blue-lined paper with something akin to starved bliss. Uncapping the pen and seeing the plastic tip sparked the same emotion, and she had to close her eyes to stop from swooning all over them. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? With a broad, besotted grin, she began to write.

* * *

"What is this?" McGonagall held Lilly's essay in two fingers, eyeing it dubiously.

"It's my essay, Professor. You remember, you assigned us an essay on the theory of transformation to inanimate objects."

"I am well aware of that, Miss Banks. I do not recall giving you the instructions to transfigure parchment into this, though."

"It's not parchment, it's paper."

"I beg your pardon?"

Alice sighed. This was looking more and more like a bad idea. It had seemed like such a good plan in the common room, but she'd reckoned without her teachers. Now she was being stared at – again – and she might have to rewrite her essay – again. "It's paper. I got it from my notebook." She held up the offending object. Then, knowing where McGonagall would strike next, she added, "And I wrote it with my ball point." This too was produced and offered for inspection.

McGonagall didn't take the proffered items, choosing instead to examine Alice closely. "Miss Banks, please stay after the lesson."

Alice sighed again. Detention for sure. Lovely. "Yes Professor."

The class passed quickly enough, though Alice had to admit to not actually paying attention to what McGonagall was trying to teach them. Something about theory, she supposed, since no samples were handed out, but she couldn't have said what it was. She'd have to remember to snag Lilly's notes later.

Finally, the period ended, and the others filed out. Alice stayed behind, waiting nervously for McGonagall to come to the point. Lilly smiled reassuringly at her as she left, and Alice tried to smile back, but it came out strained, and she knew it. And then everyone else was gone, and she was left alone with McGonagall. She sighed, taking a deep breath, trying to think of a good way to defend her actions. No one had ever actually _said_ that she couldn't use paper, after all; they'd just told her she couldn't use any of the 365 banned items of Filch's list. She doubted very much that ballpoint pens and notebook paper were on that list, if only because the ancient caretaker didn't know what they were.

"You have trouble writing with a quill, do you not?"

Alice nodded, sighing. "Yes, Professor."

To her surprise, the formidable woman began to smile. "I quite understand," she informed the stunned girl. "You aren't the only muggle-born student to have this kind of problem." Her lips twisted into a slightly ironic smile. "You are merely the first to act on that."

Alice let out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding. "So am I not in trouble, Professor?"

"In trouble? Certainly not."

"Then… may I go?"

"In a moment. I have something to ask you, Miss Banks."

"Yes Professor?"

McGonagall paused for a moment, looking Alice straight in the face. "Would you be willing to write to whomever it was who brought you these implements and ask for more? I believe it's high time this castle had its own supply of… what did you call them?"

"A ballpoint."

"Yes, ballpoints. Would that be possible?"

"Of course, Professor." Alice would have agreed to anything. She could hardly believe that she wasn't in trouble! "May I go, Professor?"

"Of course," McGonagall told her, smiling once more. Alice smiled back, then gathered up her things and dashed towards the Great Hall. _Now_ she had something to tell the others, something that _she_ had done, and something that _only_ she could do. For the first time since the beginning of this year, she felt as thought she truly belonged.


End file.
